


AMAHL

by vanhunks



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 10:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7357981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanhunks/pseuds/vanhunks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rather unwilling Ensign Amahl  accompanies his friend Ensign James Matthews to visit Cadet Kathryn Janeway in hospital. Can this be love at first sight?  First place in the Voyager Talent Nights X's&O's contest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gilly Hoyle for her brilliant artwork. 
> 
> NOTE: 1) This story is pre-Voyager, where Janeway is still an Academy cadet. More I can't say at this point, since it needs a little of the element of   
>  surprise for this to succeed. Another note will be appended at the end of the story.  
>  2) The picture you see here is a composite Gilly made from a picture I've scanned from one of my Voyager magazines, of Douglas Spain, the   
>  actor who played the young Chakotay in "Tattoo" and of Janeway from those early Star Trek Academy mags. I owe Gilly wholeheartedly my   
>  grateful thanks for taking the specifications I've given and coming up with this picture, the only one of its kind on the 'net, I believe.

* * *

 

 

"Are you coming?" James asked Chakotay. James pouted, batted his eyelids and held up the package like he was going to offer it to the gods.

"Only as long as you call me Amahl," Chakotay replied.

"Amahl! Where did that come from? I know you as my buddy, my colleague, as - "

"Will you?"

James's brow knitted together in his perplexity. The look changed to exasperation when Amahl wouldn't budge. "Oh, come on! The girl's not going to bite. You just have to stand near the door and look beautiful. After that you can go your own way like you usually do and no one knows where you are."

Amahl felt displaced, a little out of his depth. He didn't feel like being tagged along on an errand. He wanted see Grey Eagle in Mexico and absorb the old man's gentle if simple expressions on life. Jimbo was a great friend; they had been in many scrapes together, but seeing a girl...this girl... Amahl felt the old tenseness in the pit of his stomach. He had never been around girls much, and this one was a cadet, the daughter of an admiral.

"Why are you dragging me along?" he asked.

"Because you're my best friend and you have to come with me. Besides, I'm only hand-delivering her gift."

"Yeah. You know the girl's father who is a friend of your father who agreed that his son James Ellismere Matthews, accompanied by his friend "Amahl" will deliver Daddy's gift to the girl because Daddy couldn't do it himself."

"Amahl? Your name is  - "

"If I go along, remember?" Amahl cut in.

"Oh, O _kay,_ " he muttered. Amahl smiled. Jimbo was cornered.

"Good. Now, about the girl's father who cannot make the time to see his little girl on her birthday - "

"Cut the man some slack, will you?" Jimbo said. "Admiral Janeway and my father are both on Grovad IV for talks. You know that. Now, are you coming?"

"No. I'm not playing nanny to you. Hell, you're pretty self-sufficient on that score."

"You just agreed if I call you Amahl, then you'll come along."

"I said _if_ I come along."

A look came in Jimbo's eyes that Amahl knew meant only one thing - he was  going to do the lame dog act again.

"Look...uh, Amahl," Jimbo began, "it's just this once. Next time the girl has a birthday, we'll be in deep space and long forgotten by her, and we'll never have to think about it again." Jimbo paused. He looked dramatic in his pause. He should have been an actor. "Please...uh...Amahl?"

Amahl shrugged.

"Okay, as long as I don't have to hold your hand...or the girl's and as long as I can just say 'hello' and leave..."

Jimbo's face broke into a wide grin. The tragic mask of a second ago gone like mist before the sun. He really should have been an actor.

"You strike a hard bargain," James said, smirking.

"I'm learning the art of negotiation. Now, where is the girl?"

"Didn't I tell you?"

"Strike one against James Ellismere Matthews, son of Admiral Edson Matthews. Sometimes you're the cagiest SOB in Federation space."

"No more than you are, Amahl. You're the most enigmatic man I know."

"Jimbo, we sound like two women discussing men over dinner."

"I mean it. We're best friends, but sometimes I don't know you. It's hard to know what you're thinking.."

Amahl shrugged again and looked at the sky. It was mild weather for late May. He wasn't bothered by the slight chill, although Jimbo's normally pale face was flushed.

"So, where's the girl?"

"Her name is Kathryn Janeway, first year cadet. She's at Starfleet Medical, though."

"Why do we have to go there?"

Jimbo snorted with disgust.

"Don't you ever listen to me? The kid got badly injured  in a shuttle accident. They were on maneuvers, I believe."

"Poor thing. Tough luck. You're sure we won't have to stay long?"

"Yes. Just to deliver this," Jimbo replied, holding the colourfully wrapped gift up. "My father didn't want to tell me more about the kid's condition, only that Kathryn needed a little - "

"Company?"

"I guess so. Poor girl must be lonely."

"But you did say we'll only be going in to drop the gift, then leave, right?" Jimbo gave him a jaundiced look, then smiled sheepishly. "Let me guess," Amahl continued. "You were instructed to keep her company for our whole two weeks' vacation."

"See? That's why we're best friends. You read my mind!"

Amahl gave a wry grin and shook his head. Jimbo had the universe at his feet. He was ebullient, never reserved, never at a loss for words, especially around women. That was the problem. Jimbo also never stopped talking about his women. Amahl thought how Jimbo could at times also be ungentlemanly in discussing the women he dated. There were at least three of them waiting for him, and even if Cadet Janeway was Admiral Janeway's daughter, Jimbo was clearly seeing his duty as a chore. A very boring chore.

They walked towards the transports that would take them to Starfleet Medical. Jimbo had already stored his luggage. He looked quizzically at Amahl.

"You only got one duffel?"

"You know me, Jimbo. I travel light."

"Hey, I'm not looking forward to playing nursemaid to an eighteen year old cadet while Clarice, Celestine, Cloris and - "

"Christine - "

"Yes, Christine, are waiting."

"I don't like where this is going, James."

Jimbo gave Amahl a sharp glance. Amahl rarely called him James.

"Well, I was hoping that - "

"Forget it."

"Please."

"No."

"Fine. Fine. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

"Yes. Let's leave it at that."

 

********************************** 

Kathryn Janeway lay on the high biobed. The doctor moved about efficiently, adjusting the settings on the visor that covered her face from her eyebrows to her cheekbones. She touched the broad metallic rim. She wished she could see the doctor's face. Her voice sounded brisk, no-nonsense. Kathryn thought her to be in her thirties. How could she know? She hadn't seen anyone since she had been brought in three days ago. It was pitch black. She felt again the momentary hysteria that surged through her when she had regained consciousness.

Regaining consciousness. What was that? The opening of eyes, to see a familiar face staring down at you, the great sigh of relief that you're alive? She had opened her eyes only to cry out when she couldn't even see shapes or the owners of the two voices she heard speaking to her. Darkness was a condition, someone said, or, perhaps she read it somewhere. Could books have been wrong? She had felt nothing, no impulse or glare on her eyeballs, even through the visor that was attached to her face.  The momentary aberration into dementia was halted by the calm reassurance of the doctor's voice that her blindness was only temporary.

She moved restlessly on the bed, turning her head this way, then that way, following the voice of the doctor.

"Please, Cadet Janeway, you must lie still."

Kathryn's hand reached towards the voice, and a cool hand touched hers. It felt a little more comforting, the fact that there was something that she could touch. It was immediate and pleasantly real.

"When will this come off?" she asked.

"You know that you've been severely injured, Cadet Janeway - "

"Please...call me Kathryn..."

"Well, Kathryn, then. When your shuttle conn exploded, your optic nerves were virtually destroyed by the flare. We've done what we can, and the visor will do the rest of the work. It's emitting impulses that you won't feel, by the way, to complete the healing process. The optic nerves need time to rehabilitate on their own, you understand, Kathryn?"

Kathryn nodded. They were five cadets on maneuvers around Mars. A miscalculation by Cadet Simms, and her shuttle was rocked by phaser fire and the conn exploded into an unbearable flare. It seemed shafts of white light bore directly into her eyeballs for the few seconds she had been stunned into immobility. Then the force flung her against the bulkhead and everything went black.

She knew they had informed her father and her mother had been to see her on the first day. The next day she had to go back to class at university, promising she'd be back by the weekend. Weekend was five days away. Soft footfalls, the  click of a tongue, the whiff of air as someone passed her were the only signs that the doctor was with her in the ward.

"What is your name, Doctor Pulaski?" she asked suddenly. Kathryn heard the doctor give a little chuckle. She frowned and reached for the hand again. "Why are you laughing?"

"My name is Kate."

"For Kathleen?"

"Katherine."

Kathryn smiled, feeling a little closer to the doctor. Her hand touched the blindfold again. She gave a sigh.

"My mother...I thought she would come today. My sister is away on a school field trip..." She didn't know why she confided in Kate Pulaski. But her heart had been heavy since the early morning when she woke up.

"Perhaps they will call. I'm sure they will."

"Yes, I guess so," Kathryn said, unable to shake of the melancholy. The other cadets had been to see her on the first and second day, but they too, had classes to attend. Besides, she hadn't made friends easily and her stay in hospital was a mere inconvenience to them. She shrugged. She had never been close to anyone...

"Your father, Admiral Janeway?" Kate Pulaski asked.

Kathryn's hand left the comfort of the doctor's and her fingers clutched at the cover. She had so hoped that he could be here, today of all days... Her lips compressed and she turned her face away from the voice that suddenly sounded gentle. She promised herself she wouldn't cry. She was a big girl now. Big girls didn't cry. She stopped crying when she was ten.

"He's away, on a mission, as usual." Her voice was edged with bitterness.

"I'm sure he'll relay a message to you, Kathryn. Don't worry so."

"It's my birthday today..."

She could hear how Doctor Pulaski drew in her breath. A short, heavy pause. She felt her hands being held in the doctor's. They were cool, comforting. The heaviness in her heart remained.

"Happy birthday, Kathryn...." she heard the doctor say. Her voice was tinged with a little sadness. A hand touched her cheek. She had promised herself never to cry again.

"Thank you, Doctor..."

What more could Kate Pulaski say? There wasn't anything to say. The silence hung uneasily between them.

"Well, I'll leave you now, Kathryn. You can just hail any of the nurses or medical staff on this floor if you need any help. Tomorrow, you can get up..."

Kathryn nodded. At that moment the door chimed and she cocked her head. A wild kind of elation took hold of her. Could her father have made it for her birthday after all? Her hand clutched at the cover. She remembered to breathe, for she had been holding her breath. Then she heard the door slide open.

"Daddy...?"

*******

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Daddy?"

She was blind.

Why had he been so blind? The moment he walked through the door, following closely behind Jimbo, Amahl saw the girl on the high bed. The doctor had just moved away and he saw the girl's face, marred by the metallic blindfold. Jimbo had looked back once and he nudged his friend forward, keeping his eyes on Cadet Janeway.

He had heard her the moment the door slid open. He heard her and then saw how her mouth drooped in disappointment. It was clear from the way her hands wrung nervously together. After all, they were not "Daddy", and she had absolutely no idea who had entered the ward.

It had to be terrifying not knowing, not seeing and only hearing; everything was unfamiliar. He was certain she heard two sets of footfalls.

The doctor moved towards them, after first touching Cadet Janeway's hand in a comforting gesture.

"Gentlemen, I'm Doctor Pulaski. What can I do for you?"

He heard the doctor's voice, nodded distractedly in acknowledgement of her greeting. It was Jimbo who spoke.

"Doctor, I'm Ensign James Matthews and my friend here is Ensign...Amahl."

Amahl promised himself to kill Jimbo later. The pauses were deliberate. Also, he had seen the way the girl flinched when she heard James say his surname. It was a flinch of recognition, the little sigh escaping as if she knew her father wasn't coming, and that he'd sent an envoy. He couldn't see her eyes, but the way her hair fell about her face, the hint of red to her lips, the way her lips first compressed in the knowledge that they were not whom she expected, then relaxed into an almost morbid manner, struck a chord. He watched her hands. They opened and closed, clutching the cover, then releasing it.

"I take it you've come to see Kathryn?" Dr Pulaski asked.

"Er...yes, Doctor. My father and Cadet Janeway's father are on the same mission - "

"You know my father?" Kathryn asked, her voice suddenly eager.

"Not very well, Cadet Janeway - "

"Kathryn."

"Okay, Kathryn," Jimbo replied, pulling Amahl's arm.

"Gentlemen, I will leave you with the patient," said Doctor Pulaski. "She has instructions to hail me or any of the staff."

"That's OK, Doctor," said Jim. Amahl remained quiet. He nodded as the doctor prepared the leave the room and actually held his breath until she was out of the ward.

Jimbo moved forward, but Amahl was rooted to the spot, about two metres away from the bed. He remained transfixed, never taking his eyes of Kathryn's face, or the way her lips moved as she wet them with the moist of her tongue. He thought her lips trembled, then again, he might have imagined it. Jimbo touched Kathryn's hand.

"Cadet - "

"Please, call me Kathryn," she said again, and this time her mouth curved into a shy smile. Amahl thought she handled her disappointment well.

"Well, Kathryn, I have something here for you. It's a gift, from your father - "

"M-My f-father?" she stammered. This time her voice sounded eager again, her face turned towards the voice.

"Yes, this is your gift..." Jimbo pressed the box against Kathryn's hand so that her fingers opened and she gripped it eagerly. Then a strange expression came over her features, that part that Amahl could see. He could have sworn that for a second only, she hated her father.

"I - I can't look at it now," she said quietly as her fingers slackened and the box sailed off the bed. Jimbo bent down to pick it up. He placed it on the little stand next to the bed.

"I understand. Please, from the two of us... Happy Birthday..." Jimbo faced Amahl, closed the gap between them and pulled him by his arm again. "Are you going to say something, Amahl?"

"Amahl?" Kathryn mouthed the name. "Hi..." Didn't she hear Jimbo introduce the two of them when Doctor Pulaski was in the ward? It sounded as if she said his name for the first time.

"Happy birthday, Kathryn," he said quickly, then stood back again, content for the moment only to look at the young cadet whose face lit up because she thought they were her father coming to visit. Her hair shone in the light that streamed from the window and he sucked his breath.

"Thank you..."

"Well," Jimbo started after an uncomfortable silence and a dirty look in Amahl's direction, "we have to go now. The doctor said - "

"You don't have to worry. I can hail her if I need anything..."

"Sure."

As they walked to the door, Amahl looked back once. Kathryn, sitting up against the pillows, looked again as still as a mouse, with her hands clasped together. He wanted to rush back and say he'd sit with her some more, just to talk to her, to keep her company. No one else had come to visit. Kathryn struck a lonely picture, so aloof as she held her head, her face in their direction. Jim's pull on his arm reminded him that they had to go. Why did he suddenly feel he wanted to stay? He had been tongue-tied, but he didn't want to say anything anyway. He just wanted to look at her and sometimes, if he felt courageous enough, to hold her hand.

Kathryn Janeway was lonely.

****

"I've never known you to be a coward, Jimbo," Amahl said, looking at his friend. They were in Amahl's small apartment overlooking the Bay.

"And I saw the way you looked at her, Amahl...or am I allowed to call you Chakotay now we're out of sight?"

The clever remark wasn't lost on Chakotay. Kathryn was blind, albeit it temporarily. Now that they were out of sight, he could take off his mask. He sighed. Amahl was his great-grandfather's name. He had just grabbed at it when he knew he had no chance of ducking out of having to accompany Jimbo to see Kathryn Janeway. He couldn't for the life of him explain how he had wanted to do something as deceitful as mispresenting himself. It was uncharacteristic, going against his better nature.

Yet, he had found himself unable to stop looking at Cadet Janeway with her golden bronze hair that threw little sparks as the light caught it. He couldn't forget the way her whole face, or that part that was visible outside the protection of the blindfold, lit up as they entered the room. She must love her father a great deal, was the thought that came to him. He couldn't stop looking at the way her fingers were laced, or her hands nervously clutched at the cover.

He couldn't forget how lonely she looked.

Maybe Jimbo was right.

"Call me Chakotay," he said sullenly, while Jimbo got that pleading look in his eyes again. "What...?"

"You're gonna do me the favour or not?" When he refused to respond, Jimbo continued with, "I've got to be with Clarice today, Chak. And tomorrow I have to - "

"Yeah, be with Cloris. And the day after with Celestine - "

"There you go!"

"No."

"Oh, come on, Chakotay. I can see you're sweet on Cadet Janeway. The girl is lonely. It would be nothing to visit her every two days or so, then I'll - "

"Be able to tell your father you've done your duty?"

"Correct. Will you, Chakotay? I can see you wouldn't mind seeing the girl again. She's not my type, you know..."

No, Chakotay thought. She was definitely not Celestine or Cloris or Clarice or Christine. They were barracuda types who didn't mind flaunting their assets. He found them a little repulsive, their exhibitionist behaviour so unladylike. But they floated Jimbo's boat. Cadet Kathryn Janeway was definitely not Jimbo's type. She appeared too refined, and he didn't think it had much to do with the fact that she was an admiral's daughter. She just exuded that touch of class. He hadn't spoken two words together with her, yet he sensed that she was something different.

Too good for the likes of him. Way too good for Chakotay, son of Kolopak of Dorvan V.

Yet, the very thought of Kathryn Janeway sitting up against the stack of pillows, looking a little lost, tore at his defenses. He felt unable to pull himself away from that image. Sometimes when he pictured his mother who was so tiny but full of spirit, he wanted to step out of his dream, haul Hannah into his arms and hug her forever. Kathryn reminded him of his mother.

He became aware that Jimbo was staring at him intently. His friend was waiting for an answer. They hadn't done things together much since they left the Academy except on their ship, because Jim had become infatuated with women. Lots of them. One day be was going to be burnt by one of them. Chakotay sighed, shaking his head. Jimbo was persuasive, and much as he feigned disinterest, the image of the blinded Kathryn just made his heart burn with the need to protect her.

"OK, fine, I'll go - " He had hardly finished when Jimbo gave a whoop of delight, jumped in the air once, then rushed at Chakotay, hugging him hard.

"Thank you, comrade! I owe you one."

"I'll remember that, Jimbo."

Now he stood at the door of Kathryn Janeway's ward. He had been presumptuous enough to enquire from a Doctor Elizabeth Paris as to the extent of the patient's injuries, and he knew that the metallic bandage would only be removed in two weeks' time. The severed optical nerves needed time to heal, and even with their advanced medical expertise, the doctors felt that it was better that Kathryn remain behind the dark visor which itself did the rest of the healing, until she was ready to have it removed.

Then, he had also made up his mind to tell her his real name. It was total madness. It was wrong. He deceived Kathryn and he felt a little sick about it. From the moment he had seen her, she became no longer just a cadet at Starfleet, but someone who had a profound effect on him, someone he wanted to get to know better.

She must be alone again. As he exited the lift walking towards her ward, he had seen someone - probably one of her class mates, or cadets who had been with her on maneuvers - exit the room, scurrying past him.

He hesitated before pressing the chime, cursing Ensign James Ellismere Matthews again for letting him do his dirty work. His heart thundered against his chest, feeling pain as the took a deep breath.

He heard Kathryn say, "Enter".

**********


	3. Chapter 3

The doors slid open and he stepped inside. She was no longer on the bed, but standing by the window. She turned in the direction of the sound. He reminded himself of his resolve to declare his real identity.

He saw how she took a hesitant step forward, then stop abruptly again.

"Hello," he said as he too, stepped forward.

"Amahl! Amahl..." she breathed softly.

His heart thumped against his ribcage. She called him Amahl... She recognized his voice...

"Kathryn, I - my name is - "

"- Amahl...I am glad you could come," she said. His resolve flew as she stumbled forward and he rushed to meet her, catching her hands in his. He closed his eyes as he breathed her perfume, the smell of her hair.

"How are you?" he asked, keeping his voice courteous.

She gave a sigh as he guided her to the chair. She touched the seat with her hands before sitting down. Then she raised her face to him.

"I'm better. It's just my eyes... I'm supposed to stay here where the staff can assist me - "

"Your mother?" he asked, forgetting about telling her to call him Chakotay.

"She'll be coming later in the week. I'm supposed to go home..."

"Home? Where is home?"

"Indiana. We have a farm there. I can be discharged, but there's no place to discharge me to..."

An urge to touch her hair overtook him. He raised his hand, then let it fall back.

"The gift your father gave... Do you wish to open it?" he asked, seeing it on the bed stand, still unopened. He heard her give a sigh. "It's okay if you don't..." he suggested when he saw how her face changed.

When she nodded, he moved to the bed stand and took the small package. She fumbled at first like she did the previous day, then gave a small cry of frustration. She held it up.

"Amahl, will you open it for me, please?"

"Kathryn, I - "

"Please. Why would you suggest I open it knowing I can't, then you refuse?" she retorted. He thought her voice sounded a little bitter. His took the packet from her. Their fingers touched. She pulled her away instantly. He felt a surge of electricity than powered through his body.

He opened the gift, careful as he lifted the small ornament from the box. He put it into her hand, noting how carefully she held it, letting her fingers touch it reverently.

"Something ancient, from Eastern cultures?" she asked.

"It looks very like an image of a Buddha," he replied. "Here's a note as well. Would you like me to read it for you?"

"Yes..."

He felt a little sorry for her. He couldn't help scanning the note.

"My dear Goldenbird... Goldenbird?" he asked, curious.

"That's what he always called me when I was little. Read it please."

"I can't be with you on your birthday, but I haven't forgotten. I've sent you a gift - "

"He always does that. I expected the gift..."

"I received a report of the accident, and I'm deeply sorry that I can't be with my Goldenbird. I love you, honey. We'll spend some time together on your first vacation break..."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

"Did you know," Kathryn started jerkily, "that I won the Global Science Project Award when I was thirteen?"

"No," he replied. How could he know?

"My school prizegivings... He missed them all, did you know?"

"I guess it was really important for you that he be there, Kathryn."

"Last Christmas... He promised he'd be home...just like he promised every year..."

"He never attended the awards ceremony for your science project?"

Kathryn nodded. Chakotay put the note down and took Kathryn's hand. It felt cold and clammy, despite the warm weather. Pulling her to her feet, he led her to her robe that was lying over the end of the bed.

"Would you like to walk in the gardens, Kathryn?" he asked. She looked upset, very bitter. Her father had once again disappointed her in a long series of disappointments. Her head jerked up. He resisted the urge to touch her cheek. It looked damp though. Was she crying? he wondered.

"Amahl?"

Damn! The name slipped so comfortably from her lips, like soft velvet clouds. It sounded...beautiful... 

"Yes, Kathryn?"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked as he helped her slip her robe on.

"I'm on a two week shore leave break from my ship. My time is my own." He wasn't lying to her this time, so his reply had been instant, without any pre-meditation.

"And you came today.."

"Yes."

"I'm glad you came, Amahl. I - the other cadets are all in class right now. They..." Her words trailed. He didn't want to ask her about the cadet who exited her ward and who looked like she wanted to cry. Maybe the young girl was responsible for the accident and was guilt-ridden. Kathryn's words were also an admission that she had few close friends, none who would take the trouble and the time to visit her every day...or to help her. The girl was blinded in the accident, didn't they even think that she might need her class mates or few friends she made more than she needed the medical staff?

"I'm glad I came, Kathryn," he replied with heartfelt honesty. He led her down the passage towards the lift. Inside the lift he could feast his eyes on her. He knew he had an unfair advantage, that she had no idea how eagerly he wanted to run his fingers through her hair, or press his lips against her forehead to comfort her in her loneliness.

Once outside the building, Kathryn breathed in the fresh air. The sky was clear. She hooked her arm through his. The action surprised him, but it also quickened his heartbeat. Still, he had no illusions. Kathryn was blind now, she needed his support. He wanted to believe she needed him now.

"Is the sky clear?" she asked, as they walked towards a bench that was situated close to the rose beddings.

"Yes, it is. You know?"

"It does feel like that. On my skin...it's crisp, I think."

"You're right."

He laughed, and she squeezed his arm. Never once, as they came outside the medical facility, did she stumble. Now, they reached the bench and he allowed her to touch it, feel her way along the armrest. She sat down, gave a wondrous smile that told him she was satisfied that she could do it on her own. More than that, Kathryn needed to be outside, to breathe in fresh air, feel the breeze on her cheeks. How had no one realised it?

"I've not been helped this way, Amahl. Thank you. I think everyone's forgotten that - that..." Her voice had become soft as she spoke. He sat down next to her and took her hand in his.

"Don't worry. I understand. It's good to be outside, isn't it?"

Kathryn raised her face, allowing the warmth of the sun to bathe it. Several minutes she sat like that, capturing rays, absorbing their goodness, tasting the breeze. It was good enough a reply for him as he watched her. Her hand rested trustingly in his. He had to remind himself that he was only helping her.

"Amahl..."

The name seared into him.

"Kathryn, I'm not - " he started, but when her fingers gripped tighter around his hand, the resolve to tell her his real name fled again. Besides, the way the name fell from her lips with a mellow, low, musical intonation, it was clear that in Kathryn's mind he was Amahl.

"You and James...you were at the Academy together?"

"Yes. Graduated in the same year, got our commissions on the same ship. When - when I report for duty, I will be receiving my promotion... I - I've been informed by my Captain."

"Lieutenant Junior Grade? That's pretty quick, isn't it?"

"Well, it seems that I'll been given a commendation - "

"Meritorious service. You are a leader, then."

"I was doing my duty, Kathryn."

She nodded. She looked so young, he thought. So young and untouched, yet there was an inner strength about her. He sensed she could also be tough if she chose. He recorded those summations in his heart. Kathryn Janeway: soft, feminine, yet tough. 

"I wish I could see you..."

"Why? I'm the ugliest man in the universe."

"It's not funny."

"Sorry."

She laughed. It sounded bright, like a bell. He stared at her in total amazement. She turned so that she faced him. The movement was slow, enchanting. If only he could see her eyes! She raised her hand, and when it missed his face, he guided her palm to his cheek. His eyes closed at the touch. It was feather-light, dramatic, fingers barely touching as they skimmed the surface. He wanted to die when she touched his lips, a thumb pressing against him. Then she resumed her investigation to safer areas as if she too, realised the presumptuousness of pressing her fingers to his lips. Against his brow her thumb paused.

"Strange..."

"What is?"

"I feel some contusion. It's very slight, though. Were you injured in battle?" she asked. Her fingers didn't leave his brow; instead, they skimmed over the outline of the scar. He wanted to tell her it was a sign of his introduction into his tribe, of accepting his heritage and cultural identity, but he'd be lying. He never wanted to look like his father, or take the mark of his tribe. "Poor Amahl..." Kathryn murmured softly.

"Hey," he said, smiling with relief, "don't feel sorry for me."

"You carry the scars of battle with pride, then."

"Kathryn, it's nothing - "

"A scar?" she asked, sounding quite disappointed.

"I got a little careless in the holodeck. Afterwards I was too lazy to have the scar removed. Our CMO and I are currently engaged in battle over this mark," he said flippantly.

"And these are dimples, I guess," she ventured, running her fingers lightly over the indentation in his cheeks. He nodded, covering her hand again. "You have a strong skin, tanned, maybe."

"I guess."

"Are you of a different race, Amahl?" Kathryn, asked suddenly, frowning.

How could she have sensed?

"I am Native American."

"And proud."

There was a long pause. Kathryn's hand left his cheek and rested on her lap again. What could he tell her otherwise?

"Yes," he said at last.

The silence that followed, was not uncomfortable. Kathryn's face was turned away from him. If she could see, she would have been staring off into the distance. In profile she looked aloof, aristocratic. He was gripped by the old insecurity when he had been at the Academy, and a girl - Cadet Ravenscraig whose father was an admiral - told him she couldn't see any well-bred girl looking twice at a Native American with cropped hair and dark skin. It didn't matter that there were Bolians, Andorians and Ketarchans at the Academy. Or that some of the male cadets were womanisers who had few scruples about bedding any girl. A small sigh escaped him. He had turned down her advances, and she hadn't liked it, so she hit at something about which he never had any complexes before, because he never thought about it. But that day it hurt. He had looked at every girl after that with the same feeling: she saw him as something inferior. Few were curious about his background, but he had never volunteered to give them any information. He had never liked sharing of intimacies and maybe Jimbo was right. He kept his woes and his private life close to his chest.

"You're quiet, Amahl."

"I think we should go back..." he said softly.

Kathryn nodded. She was tiring, he could see. Besides the damage to her eyes, her other injuries had been severe. The body was a strange thing. It remembered injuries and pretty much reminded one to be patient to rest. Kathryn rose to her feet, her hand reaching for him.

They walked back slowly towards the main building of Starfleet Medical. When she was finally settled in her bed, he touched her hand. The restless lacing and unlacing of her fingers stopped.

"Amahl..."

He was beginning to like the name. His own abhorrence of deceit was beginning to diminish until his conscience accepted the name with the ease Kathryn Janeway said it.

"Yes?"

"Will you come again tomorrow...please?"

*****


	4. Chapter 4

He visited her every day. The day after he had walked with her in the gardens, he had brought along a book. He noticed that none of her fellow cadets had thought about reading to her. He hadn't known what she liked. But he liked reading Moby Dick and thought that she might like it.

"I think Captain Ahab was a tough Captain. Monomaniacal and uncompromising, but a leader..."

"You've read the book already?" he asked, disappointed.

"Oh, please, it's alright. I could read that book over and over."

"You're sure?" He knew he sounded sceptical, certain that she was humouring him.

"Amahl," she said with mild exasperation, "I want to listen to your voice."

That settled it for him. So he started reading. She sat in the chair by the window while he sat on the edge of her bed. Sometimes she stopped him and they'd discuss a phrase or sentence or paragraph. Then there'd been several minutes of heated debate before he continued. He enjoyed the sparring, realised that Kathryn thrived on the stimulating discussion. One day they were so engrossed that he hardly realised that it had gone long past visiting hour. Doctor Pulaski had come in earlier and promptly left after saying, "Don't mind me, you go ahead. I'll check on Kathryn's progress later."

It was 1800 by the time he left.

"Amahl, you read beautifully," she said a few days later. "I - I have a book. It's in my room at the Academy... My roommate can give it to you..."

He went to the Academy, asked about Kathryn's roommate and returned later with a collection of poems by Elizabeth Barret.

"I like poetry."

"You’re something else, Kathryn Janeway. Most girls your age would be interested in more...pleasurable things."

"And reading the classics and poetry is not pleasurable?"

"You know what I mean. I mean - "

"I'm not most girls, Amahl..."

"I'm glad you're not," he said with great conviction.

He had a mental image of Jimbo with his bimbos. Those girls had nothing on their minds but the idle pursuit of pleasure. He had disappeared completely after that first day and would only, at the last minute, report for duty at Earth's Orbital Station. Jimbo had frequented Sandrine's in Marseilles every day during the second Academy year and most probably he was there with two or three of his girls.

His own initial unwillingness to play 'nursemaid' to Kathryn had turned into pleasure, cantered into fevered anticipation to get to hospital and see her. He hadn't forgotten about his intention to visit Grey Eagle in Mexico, but he had become friends with Kathryn Janeway, and she became the sole reason he wanted to wake up every morning and rush to Starfleet Medical long before visiting hour. He wanted to be there the day they took the visor off and he could finally see her eyes. And, she could finally see him...

One afternoon, as he entered her ward, she stumbled towards him.

"Amahl!"

He rushed forward quickly and held her slender shoulders.

"Kathryn? What is it? What's troubling you?"

"My hair! It's full of tangles. I - I tried to wash it..."

Only then he realised that Kathryn's hair was wet.

"The nurse...or one of the cadets?"

Kathryn jerked away from him. He had to catch her as she stumbled against the bed. Her lips were compressed. Her nostrils flared. Kathryn's face was flushed. She was angry, mostly at herself, he guessed. She hated depending on others; she hated feeling helpless. That he read to her from her favourite book or anthology of poems, or held her hand as they walked in the garden, was a concession because she had become close to him, in a way. With him she didn't have to pretend. She could cry, if she wanted to. There was a great ease with which she could rest her head against his chest, or hold his hand, or just talk.

Now as he looked at her, he thought she hated her disability. The area around the visor was red. She might have been crying tears of rage. Even that luxury was denied her. So he pulled her to him gently. He didn't think that there were tangles in her hair, but then, in those moments she was Kathryn, a young girl who was picky about such things as tangles in her hair.

"Want me to help?" he asked.

She raised her face to him. He wanted to touch the visor, then pulled his hand away.

"I could use some assistance."

In the tiny bathroom that led off the ward, he found a brush. He grimaced. The basin looked a mess. Why didn't Kathryn tell the nurses she wanted to have her hair washed? When he returned, she was sitting in the chair by the window. He heard her give a sigh as he carefully brushed the tangles out of her hair. He lifted the silky strands and reeled from its softness.

"Your hair is very long. Don't cut it..."

"Are you my boss?" she asked.

"It's just...it's beautiful, you know."

"Amahl, I can't guarantee it will always be this long. Who knows, sometime in the future - "

"I hope very far into the future."

"Well, thank you for interrupting my train of thought. Now, as I was saying, sometime in the future I might think of cutting it."

"As long as it stays with 'might'".

Kathryn sat still while he continued to brush her hair until it lay, almost dry, smooth down her back.

"Thank you, Amahl."

He didn't want to be thanked. All he knew was that he lost himself in the smell of her hair, in the glorious freedom of running his fingers through it.

"You're welcome."

She rose from the chair. Her palms rested against his chest. He was transfixed by the blush to her cheeks. It was a different red from the earlier anger. Her lips were parted, waiting. He tried to back away, telling himself he shouldn't get involved. He wasn't even Amahl. What was he thinking? There was an inexorable pull towards her that he wanted to reject, to deny. But every nerve in his body strained for the release that touching her lips would bring him. Every particle begged him to strain forward. Kathryn pressed into him and he gave a little moan of defeat. He gave up the fight, lowering his head slowly. His lips brushed hers, then rested lightly on velvet cushions. Blinding sparks shot through him, burst in behind his closed eyelids and lit up the universe. Another moan escaped him. Did her lips move beneath his? Did she invite his tongue to taste her?

Another blinding flash. Cadet Ravenscraig's malicious outpour burst between them. He released Kathryn suddenly.

"I - I'm sorry. So sorry. Spirits... I shouldn't have done that..." Kathryn stood, her fingers touching the lips that had just been kissed by him. He backed away from her. "Please, forgive me. I didn't mean..."

"Amahl?"

"Yes, Kathryn?"

"I liked it..."

"You - you did?" he stammered. But he wasn't convinced. He knew that a nurse or Doctor Pulaski would soon look in on her; he knew that a very cold shower was what he needed. Maybe a cold shower wasn't necessary. The reality of kissing Cadet Kathryn Janeway, Starfleet aristocrat, daughter of Admiral Janeway, was cold enough to douse his passion. In craven haste he fled. Even as her door closed, he could hear her calling his name.

The next day he was back at the hospital, and Kathryn had been glad that he came. There were no apologies, no recriminations, no discussion, just the knowledge that they shared a very special moment. He couldn't stay away. Sometime between the embrace and their next meeting, he had decided to go to Mexico after all. He needed to breathe, to mull over the wonder and guilt of the kiss. She was blind and he had taken advantage of that. They never spoke about the kiss again. By tacit agreement, it seemed best to forget that it happened. But he had been awake most of the night dreaming of her, and thinking of that blissful touch. Kathryn had felt soft in his arms, and he would remember her softness for a long, long time.

On the Saturday Kathryn's mother finally came to visit. She had been grateful that he kept Kathryn company. In an arrangement by Doctor Pulaski, Kathryn had been on an audio link with her mother. That had at least made up for the fact that Gretchen Janeway had been unable to visit her daughter. He liked Gretchen Janeway. She had a no-nonsense attitude about her. He wondered how she coped with her husband being away from home so much and missing his daughters' birthdays and Christmases. She glared at him.

"Kathryn told me about you."

"She did?" He was surprised.

"And you say your name is Amahl?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Kathryn will be coming home with me to Indiana. I have a few days free, and hopefully by the end of our stay, we can remove the blessed blindfold."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"You are welcome to visit her at Indiana, Ensign Amahl."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Hey, you two...I'm right here in the room with you."

"Take no notice of her, Ensign Amahl. My daughter needs to be taken in hand."

Chakotay wanted to laugh at the way Kathryn pulled her mouth into a comical expression and the way Gretchen Janeway took charge of the situation, merrily dismissing Kathryn's objections. He had known Kathryn was going home to Indiana. It was all she could talk about the previous day. He wasn't certain that Kathryn needed any "taking in hand", but on the odd occasion she had been remarkably determined, especially when they had one of their lively discussions. He wished he could see her eyes then. On the third day that he visited her, she had told him her eyes were a "sort of cross between blue and grey". He looked at Gretchen Janeway who stood hands on her hips waiting for his reply.

"I will make every effort to visit her in Indiana, Mrs Janeway."

"Thank you. You have no idea how - "

"Mom! I can decide for myself. Besides, I have already asked Amahl if he'd like to come to Indiana, even if it's only for an afternoon."

"You have?"

"Yes, Mom," Kathryn sighed. "I have."

"Well, I'll leave you two alone. We leave at 1630."

When Gretchen left, Kathryn gave a sigh of relief.

"My mom - "

"Loves you very much. I can see..."

"I guess..."

"Don't worry. It's an honour to be asked. I'd like to come."

****


	5. Chapter 5

Boothby gave Chakotay a jaundiced look. His wide-brimmed hat was not enough to shield his face, and the way Boothby's mouth curved, Chakotay couldn't decide if the gardener was teasing him or kept his mouth that way in sympathy with the eyes. The old man pointed the shears at him.

"You want one of my prize roses."

"Boothby, I will be forever in your debt if you can spare me one - "

"I saw you with the girl, sitting over there, on the bench by the pond." The shears moved clumsily as Boothby pointed in the direction of the bench.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's blind."

Chakotay shook his head. Boothby was deliberately baiting him. The man did that with every cadet and every ensign. He was a self-styled counsellor who chastised, counselled, advised, philosophised in terms of his art: cultivating flowers.

"I know that. But she's leaving for Indiana at 1630. I thought I could present her with a rose - "

"Which she won't see..."

"What's wrong with touching it and smelling it? Besides, her blindness is only temporary."

"Right. Did you know her father is Admiral Edward Janeway?" Boothby's look challenged him. Chakotay sighed.

"Don't remind me."

"But you like the girl."

Chakotay wanted to walk away and forget about coaxing a rose from Boothby. Of course he liked the girl. He couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't stop thinking about her golden hair, her shy smile or her unexpected toughness. He suffered breathlessness every time he entered her room at the hospital. He was falling for her hard and it was unsettling and exciting at the same time. Chakotay looked at Boothby, returned the challenge.

"I like the girl. Are you expecting me to deny it?"

"No, son. I'm expecting you to understand that all things are fleeting. See this rose?"

Boothby put down the shears, tilted his hat a little. His palm very, very tenderly caressed a rose, of a pink and yellow hue.

"It's beautiful."

"It's a peace rose. It is in its bloom, full of goodness and the promise of everlasting beauty. But, son, like all things, this rose will wilt and eventually die. One by one its petals will drift to earth and bemoan their brief existence..."

Chakotay feared Boothby's words. It carried a portent, a disturbing window into the future.

"But while it is in bloom, we must enjoy its beauty," Chakotay ventured.

"Aye. You have a sense of the message."

Boothby bent down to pick up the shears and Chakotay thought he heard the old man's bones creak. Boothby selected a rose. Its petals looked like silk in the late afternoon sun. The rose had gone just past the bud stage, and would within days, flare into its glory.

"Here, son. You give this to Cadet Janeway. I'm sure she will like it. Pretty little thing, is that Cadet Janeway. Did you know she's the best cadet in her class? Always top in her studies."

Of course he knew. Her roommate had been garrulous the day he went to fetch Kathryn's collection of poems. He had thought how perfectly they suited one another. The talkative roommate and the more reserved Kathryn Janeway.

"Thank you, Boothby. This one's just right for her."

"Now, young man, you'd better be off. My roses want me."

"Thank you!" Chakotay called over his shoulder as he made his way to the hospital again. He thought of Kathryn. Her shattered optical nerves were being repaired by the visor, which was specially designed to emit impulses and do repair work over a period of no more than three weeks. In the meantime Kathryn had to put up with being blind until the nerves were healed.

He held the rose like it was a precious gem. He just hoped Kathryn liked roses. He had never asked her.

He made it to Kathryn's ward just in time. Doctor Pulaski was there as well as Kathryn's mother. Their amused looks embarrassed him.

"Amahl...?"

"Kathryn, I thought I'd give you this before you left. Boothby kindly agreed."

"You stole one of his precious roses?"

"Do you want it?"

Kathryn moved in his direction. He placed the rose in her hand. Immediately she brought it to her face and she inhaled its fragrance.

"It must be beautiful. It smells like that."

"It's called a peace rose," he replied, ignoring the looks of the other women.

"Thank you, Amahl. I shall treasure it."

Chakotay thought of old Boothby's words. The rose would wilt and die and with it, all memory of a friendship. He hoped they could remain friends. He hardly noticed that Doctor Pulaski and Gretchen Janeway had quietly left the room. He was watching Kathryn smell the rose, caressing the velvety petals, then bending to smell it again. Her hair was loose and it fell about her face so that somehow, it seemed to him that it hid the visor she was wearing. He could imagine seeing her eyes as she cradled the rose on its short stem.

"Kathryn, I - "

"What is it, Amahl?" she asked, as her hand groped for his.

He held her hand and felt the urgency of denying Boothby's words. Kathryn waited for him to speak. He searched for words, words that would allay his growing fears, words that would supplant Boothby's vision. Kathryn's lips were parted; her breathing became agitated. He lowered his head, touched her lips with his. It burned through him, the sudden, brief, bursting passion as Kathryn's mouth opened under his. He knew he had to stop, but Kathryn's sweetness intoxicated him, made him want to probe her sweet depths a little longer. He held her close to him and groaned when she melted into him. She tasted like nectar, the sweetness swirling around his brain until he couldn't think anymore. His fingers were in her hair, playing with its softness while all the time her lips moved under his. He investigated cautiously, found a reception of moist, incredibly daring depths, becoming bolder until his tongue played with her.

He realised he had to breathe.

When the kiss ended, he felt dizzy. Kathryn ran her tongue over her lips. She was breathing raggedly, but gradually, it became even.

"Will you come to Indiana, Amahl?" she whispered. There was entreaty in her voice, and a promise of something he had never dared to entertain, the thought too unlikely, too wildly improbable. They could be more than friends. His heart was never going to be his again. He had just lost it to the finest girl in the universe.

"Will you wait for me, Kathryn? At Indiana?" he asked.

She pressed her palm, in which she held the flower, lightly against a flushed cheek. Her face was as innocent as the rose. Very briefly this time, he kissed her again.

When Chakotay left the hospital, he made his way to the transports. After a short journey he finally opened the door to his apartment. All the way from the hospital he could still see Kathryn the way she looked just after their kiss.

**** 

Two days later Chakotay made preparations to visit Kathryn in Indiana. She had given him the coordinates, and he'd spend not just an afternoon there, but sleep over. They would return to San Francisco together the following day. She had asked him to be present when they removed the visor. He felt honoured. More than a week ago, he hadn't known her name. Now, he was looking forward to being with her.

"So I can see you for the first time, Amahl," she said during their vid-com meeting the previous night. Her mother had set up the link and all Kathryn had to do was keep her head straight and she wouldn't move out of his vision.

He had apprehensions about how she would view him. But she had waved his objections when he complained he might not be what she was looking for.

"Besides, you might just decide I'm ugly as a rat."

"Nonsense. If your kindness and your generosity is anything to measure outward appearance, I'd say you are the handsomest man on Earth."

He had been flattered by Kathryn's unconditional praise. He had also become so used to being called 'Amahl' that he had lost the urge to tell Kathryn or her mother or Doctor Pulaski the truth. He tried to rationalise that it wasn't something that he deliberately did in order to retain some anonymity or be enigmatic like Jimbo accused him. Who knew, maybe it was time he adopted his great-grandfather's name. He liked it anyway.

They had to leave for their ship the day after Kathryn returned to Starfleet Medical. Kathryn would then rejoin her class at the Academy. He still wanted to ask her if they could remain in contact through subspace communication. He knew she would be happy at the thought. She had not rejected him like Cadet Ravenscraig did; in fact, he sensed she felt as strongly about him as he did about her. It was a tremendous responsibility. His heart raced with the anticipation of seeing her eyes light up, of going to meet her at her home, of communicating with her while they were in deep space.

"Are you listening to me, Amahl?" Kathryn asked. He could hear the teasing in her voice. Her mouth curved up at the side. She did that whenever she was amused. It looked totally beguiling.

"What? Oh. What did you say?"

"You never told me about your family, whether you had parents, brothers and sisters..."

He sighed deeply.

"N-no," he replied, after a few seconds.

"Why are you avoiding that? You know I have a mother, my father is in deep space on a diplomatic mission and I have a fourteen year old sister who is on a school excursion. What about yours?"

Her last question had been soft, tentative. He knew she was being careful. He hadn't seen his parents in more than five years.

"I have parents," he said, with some difficulty. Kathryn picked up the change in tone instantly.

"I guess you don't want to talk about them..."

"N-No...not really," he admitted. Not now, he thought. Yet he knew that he would take her in his confidence, that the time would be right when he did so.

"That's okay, Amahl. I just thought I'd ask."

They had closed communication after he promised that the next time they talked, he would be standing right beside her holding her hand. He had fallen. It was madness. She liked him. Her face broke into a smile whenever he came to visit. They held hands. The day she left for Indiana, they kissed, deeply. He could still feel her shivering body against his, the way his fingers ran through her hair. She had her arm round his waist. In a moment, as she pressed her body against his and seemed to melt into him, he had moaned against her mouth. Kathryn was young; she had told him that she never had much time for boyfriends. She didn't have one. The way they fitted close together... He knew that Kathryn would be a part of his destiny.

The sharp beep of his vid-com alerted him to an incoming message. Thinking it was Kathryn, he rushed to his small lounge and seated himself quickly in front of his computer. He switched it on. The next moment a face filled the screen.

"Father?"

"Son..."

Chakotay thought Kolopak's face looked gaunt, tired, ravaged. It shocked him a little; it drew from him a reluctant concern, and his reaction surprised him. Where there had been dimples like his own, were now deep grooves. The last time Chakotay had seen him, Kolopak's hair was pitch black. Now there were grey streaks. There was no smile. Chakotay wondered how he could, given the tightness of Kolopak's features. It was his father's eyes that struck him the most. It was sad, a sadness that seemed to be part of his face so that anyone who looked at him, couldn't but think that Kolopak had never smiled in his life, never been a happy man. The guilt he had successfully concealed for so many years, burgeoned, and he tried to suppress its verdant growth.

He needed to remain angry.

The last time he had seen his father, Kolopak had begged him to make a visit to his home. That had been four years ago. He had refused to go, knew that Kolopak would once again encourage him to take the mark of his people, tell him to acknowledge his cultural identity. He did, but he hated his people's backwardness, their disinclination to use technology..

"I'm not coming to Dorvan V, Father."

"I'm not asking you to come, Chakotay. Much has happened that would make the building of new bridges impossible. I know you hate me. I would that you loved me, like you did when you were a boy..."

"I don't hate you..."

Kolopak gave a deep sigh and shook his head.

"Chakotay...son..."

Chakotay looked more keenly, past his old resentment, at his father. Kolopak didn't pursue his old cultural heritage speech like he did in the past. Were those tears that sprang in the old man's eyes? Why did his resentment of his father vanish in an instant when he saw those tears? Something was wrong.

"Father...what is wrong?"

"It is your mother, Chakotay. I would never have called you otherwise. I know how you feel."

Chakotay felt something in his throat, a lump that thickened. It pressed against his conscience. It blinded him for a moment as he pictured his mother: tiny, feisty, courageous Hannah who allowed only him, her first-born, to massage her aching neck when she had headaches. He pictured his mother the last time he saw her, with tears in her eyes, convinced that she would never, ever see him again.

Something was wrong with her. Something serious enough that his father broke his own resolve to contact his contrary, angry son.

"Mama?"

"Your mother is dying, Chakotay. For her, and for her alone, I ask that you come home...please..."

*****


	6. Chapter 6

Kathryn was sitting on the porch in the swing seat, thinking about Amahl. Their last kiss had been magical. The only real friendship she had with any boy was Mark Johnson, and she had never liked him much as they were growing up. But they never kissed, and Mark had been extra sensitive about not ruining his friendship with her by kissing her.

Amahl's kiss flowed through her, curled her insides and sent ripples of pure pleasure through her. She had wanted to press closer to him that day, and maybe she did. She heard his moan, and it didn't sound to her like a moan of disgust. She had been stunned by the force of her emotions. Since the day he had first come to visit her, she had been on a roller coaster. He was open and evasive at the same time. A wonderful companion who was as generous as he was sometimes enigmatic. She couldn't see him, but his body felt incredibly strong, like she could lean against him forever and not be afraid. Yet, she didn't have to see his face to sense when something was said and it closed him off a little.

She wanted to keep in contact with him. She wanted him to be part of her life. He couldn't have kissed her with so much passion and tenderness and not mean for them to be apart. If Academy cadets were persistent in their curiosity about a handsome Native American they saw at her side, she wanted to have the right to tell them Amahl was her boyfriend who served on the USS Carpathia. She smiled at the thrilling thought. Amahl, Kathryn Janeway's boyfriend. She gave a sigh of pleasure, thought of their kiss and felt again the pleasure coiling through her body.

Amahl had only once mentioned his vessel. She knew it was his first ship and that he had been serving two years on the Carpathia. She had almost fallen out of her chair the day he mentioned in passing that he was only fifteen when he entered the Academy.

"Much against my father's desires," he had said, then closed off completely, as if he felt guilty at sharing his woes with her.

Now, she was waiting for him. Her mother had just told her that it was almost 1600, and he would reach their farm at 1700. A room had been prepared for Amahl and Kathryn smiled at they way her mother had complained about the arrangement.

"We must put a book or two on the bedside table, Mom."

"And what else?" asked Gretchen, whose voice, Kathryn could swear, sounded snide.

"Oh, and we could replicate him a robe."

"The man is sleeping over one night, Kathryn. This is not a hotel."

"But, Mom!"

"Fine! I'll do as you request. Want me to put your rose by his bedside too?"

"It's mine," she had replied, holding the rose possessively to her bosom.

"I should put it in water - "

"No! I - I..." she paused, sounding completely sentimental. She had never been so sentimental in her life. She winced when a thorn pricked her, but didn't care.

"You want to preserve it?"

"Sure. Why not?" Her reply had been soft, almost shy. She could still feel Amahl's lips burning on her mouth, still feel the closeness of his large frame. She had lost herself in his embrace. Occasionally, the thought of that kiss and embrace would send ripples through her. She wanted to relive the moment over and over.

Her mother had snorted, but said on a kinder note, "You like him very much..."

She had only nodded. It was difficult to cry. Once she had wanted to tear the visor off in frustration.

She swayed gently back and forth. She must have dozed off, for she felt a hand touch her shoulder, shaking her.

"Mom?"

"You'd better come inside, honey. There's a chill in the air."

"What time is it?" she asked as she let her mother guide her to the lounge.

"It's 1700."

"Already? He'll be arriving any moment then..."

"Don't bite him if he's a little late, okay?"

"Of course I won't. I'll - "

"Kiss him because you're so happy he's here after all?"

"Mom!"

They laughed as Kathryn settled herself on the deep sofa in front of the large fireplace. Music played softly in the background, and Kathryn threw her head back against the headrest. Her mother had vanished to the kitchen to fix dinner.

She imagined Amahl would lift her high in his arms when he arrived. He'd put her down and kiss her.

Then he'd say, "I love you, Kathryn..."

And she would throw herself against him and cry, "I love you too, Amahl..."

**** 

Gretchen Janeway walked into the lounge. Kathryn was still sitting there, twirling the stem of the rose between her fingers. Earlier, when Kathryn had refused to come to bed, she had taken a soft mohair rug and thrown it over her daughter's lap. Kathryn had just sighed, said nothing and kept twirling the rose. It was difficult to determine what Kathryn was thinking. She couldn't see her eyes. But the quiet, deliberate manner in which she handled the flower, the way Kathryn's lips compressed, the way her head inclined towards the sound of her mother's voice... It told Gretchen more about her daughter's emotions than if Kathryn had said anything.

"Kathryn, honey..."

Kathryn didn't move. Gretchen's heart wanted to break. Her daughter looked lost and unhappy.

"He's not coming, Mom."

It was a statement. Something about the way Kathryn mouthed the words was an indication of acceptance, and it was that acceptance that worried Gretchen. Kathryn seemed to have made up her mind that all was lost.

"It doesn't seem likely, I'm afraid."

"What time is it, Mom?"

Gretchen sighed.

"It's already gone past 0300."

"He promised..."

"Something must have happened, honey. You have to understand that."

"In that case, why didn't he send a message? Why didn't he let me know?"

She wanted to tell Kathryn that Amahl was only a young ensign who showed concern that she was alone at Starfleet Medical. She wanted to tell Kathryn that Amahl's interest was probably no deeper than a superficial friendship. But she couldn't. She'd be lying to her daughter. She had seen Kathryn and she had seen Amahl. The young ensign was smitten with her daughter and it looked deep. The day she returned to Kathryn's ward and saw her daughter with the flower in her hand, her face flushed, her lips redder than usual, she knew that there must have been a very heady, intimate moment between them.

Her daughter had fallen in love.

"I cannot tell you that, honey. There must be any number of reasons - "

"Like he's no longer interested?"

Kathryn sounded harsh, certain Amahl didn't want her anymore. She was experiencing her first disappointment in love. Gretchen held nothing against Amahl, save for the fact that it would have been a courtesy gesture to inform Kathryn he wasn't coming after all, and given some explanation. Kathryn deserved that, at least. She was too proud to arrange a hail to Amahl's apartment. Gretchen could understand her daughter's reticence. Although Kathryn was never a diffident child, she also never easily lost herself in close associations. The reason wasn't difficult to guess. Edward Janeway loved his children. He loved his wife. But he was a Starfleet admiral, and therefore subjected to the many missions the Starfleet senior brass sent them on. Edward had missed most of his daughters' achievements, birthdays and Christmases. She had learned to deal with it. Kathryn took it harder than Phoebe. She loved her father to distraction, and his so-called betrayal every time she had a birthday, something he compensated for by sending her gifts anyway, was even more damaging. Kathryn simply saw the gifts as appeasement prizes. Now, Amahl, who promised he'd visit her and spend the day with her, never pitched up. He too, had given her a prize. A peace rose. Appeasement prize, indeed.

"Don't be too hard on him, okay? Tomorrow at the hospital he might just turn up."

"He won't, Mom. I just feel it...here," Kathryn replied, placing her hand against her heart.

"Cut him some slack. There must be a reason. There's always a reason."

Kathryn gave a deep sigh, and motioned that her mother help her to her room. When Kathryn was settled in bed, Gretchen sat down next to her.

"It's nothing, right, Mom? He was only someone who kept me company at the hospital."

"Oh, Kathryn..."

"Nothing more than friends. We weren't even friends..."

She took Kathryn's clammy hand in her own.

"No, Kathryn. You were friends. More than friends. I'm pretty certain he cares deeply about you. He's the kindest and most courteous young man I've met."

Kathryn removed her hand and turned on her side, facing away from her mother. Gretchen sighed. She got up and walked to the door. She paused when she heard a little sob.

"It's not enough, is it?" Kathryn said forlornly.

********** 

Kathryn sat on the high bed while Doctor Pulaski carefully began the removal of the visor.

"Just keep your eyes closed, then slowly open them. I've reduced the light factor to 30%," she said calmly.

Kathryn nodded. Gretchen watched in silence. It was three weeks after Kathryn's accident, and the visor had done its work, repairing the damaged optical nerves. Kathryn would have perfect eyesight again. The patient remained quiet. She had been quiet since they traveled from Indiana.

This morning, when Kathryn had made her way to the kitchen, she looked reserved, not saying much.

"Your fingers are bleeding," Gretchen had said.

"The rose had thorns," Kathryn replied edgily.

After breakfast, Gretchen had gone to Kathryn's room and saw the rose on the floor. What was left of it anyway. She hadn't asked Kathryn about it, but it told her enough. The petals lay scattered, and she had carefully collected the remnants and placed it in a bowl.

"It still smells wonderful," she told Kathryn.

"Throw it away."

"We'll see."

"Well, you keep it then. It means nothing to me...now."

That had been this morning, shortly after breakfast. Kathryn kept up her stony silences afterwards and her heart bled for her daughter. Amahl meant more to Kathryn than she had realised, and she felt the betrayal acutely. Gretchen had tried to make contact with Amahl again, after which Kathryn had been extremely restless when she was told that there was still no response from the young man.

Gretchen watched as Katherine Pulaski finally removed the visor. Kathryn blinked a few times, then kept her eyes closed.

"Open your eyes. Tell me if the light bothers you..."

Kathryn opened her eyes. She looked at the doctor, then at her mother.

"No..."

"Okay, I'll gradually increase the light settings. Just holler the second it hurts."

Kathryn remained impassive as the light in the room slowly increased until it was almost at 80 percent.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Gretchen asked, moving forward to touch Kathryn's shoulder. She smiled at her own impulse to alert Kathryn to her presence or touch. Kathryn turned to her, blue-grey eyes staring levelly at her.

"It's good to be able to see again," she said, a sober note to her voice. Kathryn turned to the doctor. "I must thank you. It was uncomfortable and grounding, I suppose, not being able to see. But I'm glad. I can resume classes right away."

"You're cleared, Kathryn. As of this moment, you're officially discharged...." Katherine Pulaski paused, then, as if a thought struck her, she looked keenly at Kathryn. "I thought your young man might be here today to share this moment with you..."

"Doctor, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention him again." Kathryn slid from the bed and turned to her mother. "Shall we go?"

Doctor Pulaski didn't say anything, just nodded to Gretchen.

Gretchen Janeway sighed. She had promised to accompany Kathryn to her dorm at the Academy. They left the hospital and took a short cut through the gardens. Boothby waved and Kathryn waved back, but Gretchen noticed that her mouth was stiff.

She stopped, touching Kathryn's arm.

"Kathryn, look. I know you're hurting. Amahl - "

"I have to forget him, Mom."

"No! He's serving on the Carpathia, isn't he? Why don't you contact him. The Carpathia is still at the Orbital Station - "

"Mom, let it go. Amahl made a promise he didn't keep. Now I don't know if - if..."

"He'll want to continue seeing you?"

Kathryn nodded. Her face creased. She was on the verge of tears. Quietly, Gretchen drew Kathryn against her and waited the few minutes she cried heartbrokenly. Kathryn rarely cried, Gretchen thought absently, as she looked over the lawns and spotted Boothby, who waved to her. Her daughter had fallen in love with an incredibly dashing and quiet, chivalrous young man. A young man who vanished from her life as suddenly as he appeared in it.

When Kathryn collected herself, she looked dry eyed, unhappy, but with a calm resolve about her.

"I'll get through this..."

"Kathryn, if you like, could I try and track him?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she started walking again, and by the time she was back in her dorm, she was smiling. There was no trace of the unhappiness, though Gretchen knew with a sinking feeling that Kathryn had simply taken her heartache and put it where she'd never allow another person to see.

*** 

That much was clear to her two days later when she hailed Kathryn on her vid-com.

"Hi, Mom! You on a break from classes?"

"Kathryn, I've tried to trace Amahl..."

Gretchen watched as a flash of pain flitted across Kathryn's features. Quickly Kathryn controlled herself. She tried to look dispassionate, but didn't succeed. Her eyes betrayed her.

"Mom," Kathryn said, sighing, "it's no use. He means nothing, okay? He didn't have the decency to say goodbye, or whatever. I'll get on with my studies and my life. There's a whole lot of living still to do. I'm sure you'll agree."

"I agree, Kathryn. You're young. But you've given your heart to Amahl..." When Kathryn didn't reply, Gretchen continued, softly, "And you never forget it...the first time you've fallen in love..."

Tears welled in Kathryn's eyes again.

"I...loved him, Mom..."

"I know. And I'm sorry that you're hurting, honey. Amahl was good for you...the best. But, Kathryn, I called to tell you that - "

"What, Mom?"

"There is no Ensign Amahl serving on the USS Carpathia. In fact, there is no record of an Ensign Amahl."

Kathryn's face paled, then creased in confusion.

"Mom?"

"But an Ensign Chakotay fits the description I've given, and he closely resembles Amahl."

"C-Chakotay?"

"Yes. And this Ensign Chakotay has taken an indefinite leave of absence."

"They are one and the same person?"

"Yes, I have reason to believe that."

"Has he said anything? Left any message?"

"That is the problem. There is no news of him. Nothing. Where he went to, Kathryn...that's classified. James doesn't know either."

Kathryn sighed, wiped the dampness from her cheeks.

"He's gone...from my life..."

"I could ask Owen Paris - "

"No!"

"Fine, I won't. Amahl...Chakotay left suddenly, Kathryn, on the same day he was supposed to arrive at Indiana. I'm so sorry, honey."

"Then it's the end. I'll not go further. I'm not going to run after him, knowing he doesn't want any further contact. If - if he changed his name, it means that he never wanted me to know his true identity and - and that..."

Gretchen knew what Kathryn was thinking. She had had the same idea herself. Kathryn had been too proud to want to make any investigations. She was right. How would it have looked? An Academy cadet making a nuisance of herself running after someone who didn't want to be found. Chakotay must have had his reasons for hiding his identity from them. Kathryn was young. So was this Ensign Chakotay who introduced himself to them as Amahl. Strange, she couldn't think of him as Chakotay. Kathryn and Amahl both still had to experience the many blows life dealt people and which would shape their lives. Ten, twenty years from now they would be different people.

"Kathryn, I've seen him... He never struck me as the kind of young man who would be deceitful. You're thinking he had other motives."

"Whatever they were, it means nothing to me now. He's out of my life, Mom. I've accepted that."

"Then, Kathryn, make the best of your studies. You're bright and exceptional and I just know you'll one day be the most brilliant captain Starfleet has ever had. Your name will be on everyone's lips."

Kathryn wiped the dampness from her cheeks and smiled through her heartache.

"Just like Captain Kirk, right?"

"Just like Captain Kirk, honey. Just like Captain Kirk."

*********** 

END

EPILOGUE

There was a silence that hung in the air. Chakotay sat in a deep comfy chair by the hearth, warmed by the glow of the fire. He laughed as two pairs of eyes widened in their wondrous indignation. They were gaping. He thought particularly that Winonah, all of fourteen years old and resembling him but for her blue-grey eyes, opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of breath, if that were possible. Hannah, twelve years old, golden haired and blue-eyed, looked about to cry.

"And she never met Amahl again?" Winonah asked.

"Not then, honey," he replied sagely.

Both girls thought the easy chair was big enough to accommodate the three of them as they scrambled to sit on his lap. Chakotay groaned. They had been doing that since they were toddlers.

"Imagine...Amahl was Daddy all the time!"

"Did she ever forgive him, Daddy?"

"She must have, else - " started Hannah.

That moment Kathryn Janeway stepped into the lounge and the three of them looked accusingly at her. She disturbed them from a very interesting legend. Stepping up behind the chair and placing her hands on Chakotay's shoulders, she asked:

"Has Daddy been telling you again about how we met?"

Hannah slid off Chakotay's lap and struck a dramatic pose as she looked at her mother.

"Yes, Mom! Right from where Jimbo turned tail and let Daddy do his dirty work."

"And Amahl told Jimbo he'll only go if he's introduced as Amahl..."

Kathryn thought they were too young to absorb the fact that Jimbo and Chakotay were in fact doing Edward Janeway's dirty work.

"And you were blind for three whole weeks and you never saw his face!" Hannah said, placing her hand over her heart. "Mom! It's sooo romantic!"

"Being blind?"

"And have Amahl brush your hair and hold your hand and take you to the garden and kiss you and - "

"Did Amahl ever try to explain? Winonah asked.

"I bet she didn't want to hear a thing!"

Kathryn smiled indulgently at her daughters.

But it was Winonah, who reminded Kathryn of herself at the same age, who remained thoughtful.

"Did you forgive Daddy?" she repeated her question.

"Only many, many years later...on a starship called Voyager."

 

*************************

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: The research I've done for J & C's ages and their years of training at Starfleet Academy, led me to some rather conflicting representations. For my story, I needed Janeway to be an Academy Cadet in 2350, while Chakotay is already serving on a starship as an ensign. He 1) is three years older than Kathryn in the story, and 2) because of his early admittance to the Academy, graduates before her, ca. 2348-49.


End file.
